Attempt
by RiddleMeThis17
Summary: With the lack of magical contact, his friends not being very honest with him, and "Kill the spare!" echoing through his head, Harry is driven over the edge, but saved by... Voldemort? AU after GoF, T for attempted suicide in the beginning amongst other reasons. Neutral/Grey!Harry. No pairings- yet.


**Er… Yeah. This does have suicide attempts in it, and it might be OOC…And possibly a bit drastic…Which is why this is rated T.**

**I own nothing.**

_You're running away…Coward… What would your parents say? What would Sirius or Dumbledore say? Coward… Just like Pettigrew… Running away because you can't handle a bit of stress… What would your parents say? Your parents who sacrificed their lives for you… Coward…_

"Shut up." Harry panted. The voice sounded remarkably like Ron, although he knew Ron would never call him a coward.

_Die Harry Potter… It's so simple… Just wrap the rope around your neck…_ The voice sounded so much like Voldemort he almost turned around to see if the feared Dark Lord really was there.

Harry Potter looked sickly. Skin clung to his frame like an oversized shirt, his face was sallow and his eyes seemed to be pressed in inside his head. His face was pronounced, his chin jutting out. His hands were bony with the lack of food, and black bags sagged beneath his eyes. In his hands was a looped rope which extended to ceiling. He had tested it with severl of his heaviest of his textbooks, and it held.

He sighed. Was this worth it? His life?

Just weeks ago, he had seen a fellow schoolmate murdered, and then watched the man- no, the monster that had killed his parents when he was a child, resurrect himself with the help of the traitor Peter Pettigrew. After Voldemort, or as most of the Wizarding World called him- You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, summoned his followers, who the world called Death Eaters, he had been forced into a duel. That was the only time he'd seen his parents that wasn't in a photo or the Mirror of Erised. Their copies along with several other victims of Voldemort gave him the strength to overpower the Dark Lord, and escape with Cedric Diggory's body.

None of the Wizarding World believed him or Dumbledore when they said Voldemort had come back, and after leaving for his relatives' home in Little Whinging, Surrey, he had not had much contact with the Wizarding World.

_Or my friends_. Harry thought sullenly.

Harry's best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, had sent him very short messages. They had basically said that they couldn't say much of what was going on there.

He stared at the piece of rope in his hands. This was it. He was going to die.

He breathed in, sending another glance at three pieces of parchment lying on his bed. They were letters. One to his to one to his godfather, Sirius Black.

Hedwig, his owl, was to mail them if he died. If. Why would he add 'if'? He was going to die, and when he did, Hedwig would mail them off. When she came back after he yelled at her that was.

Was he stalling? Did he really want to die?

_Ignore the hesitation… Just die… You're friends are happier without you… Not even sending you any meaningful letters…_ Harry breathed in, blinked away the welling tears and slung the rope around his neck.

In some way, it was almost funny. The Boy-Who-Lived, committing suicide in a drastically Muggle fashion. It'd be sure to make the front page. His name was being dragged through the mud enough, from what the Daily Prophet said.

He stepped off the chair, and hung there in the air. He could already feel it, the pressure against his throat, black dots blinking in front of his eyes, his head pounding loudly. He felt as though someone was squeezing his head, trying to compress it into a shape it was incapable of taking. His body's natural reaction was to get the rope off him, however although it would be easy, panicking in mid-air while trying to reach some sort of surface was difficult. He calmed and let his flailing arms and legs down. He asked for this, he was going to get it.

At least he'd be able to see his parents again…

Moments passed. The pounding in his head grew louder, harder, and even more painful. He couldn't breathe.

His vision finally faded into black, and he smiled.

But was death supposed to be like this? Why did he hear a crack sounding like Apparation? Was that Dumbledore? Why did he feel as though someone had taken off the rope around his neck? Was he supposed to be lying on the ground, with someone chanting over him? Dumbledore was a skilled wizard, he couldn't allow his student to die…

His eyes flew open to see the blank ceiling of his room, and for one moment he was afraid it was just a dream.

A voice chuckled. "If you are afraid that it was a dream, you really must be suicidal." He almost jumped and screamed at the face he saw. He sat up quickly, his head pounding again. Brown eyes and dark hair of a man he only knew as a different person and name.

"Voldemort?" His voice was croaky, as expected for someone who just tried hanging themselves. "Why are you here?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Voldemort, who looked absolutely nothing like his snake faced self, chuckled again before narrowing his quite human eyes at him. "What were you thinking? You're an idiot but I never thought that you would resort to hanging yourself. Do you not know what you could have done?" Harry coughed.

"Would it be me dying and you winning?" He asked sarcastically, regaining some of his voice. The teenager Dark Lord slapped him. "Ow!"

"I was right, you are an idiot." Harry sent him a loathing glare.

"Why did you stop me? I was almost dead!" He didn't care if anyone heard him. The Dursleys' were at the awards ceremony of some competition, and there was no one in the house save for him and the apparently Glamoured Dark Lord. "And why are you like that? How did you even get here?"

Tom Riddle stood up and sat in the chair Harry had stood on, leaving Harry sitting on the ground.

"Idiot, you did die." Riddle snapped. "If it weren't for magic you would either be brain-dead or near brain-dead. And you have something that belongs to me," his eyes narrowed."Furthermore, it's impossible for you to die." He seemed almost envious.

Harry blinked, his strained mind attempting to process this information. So even if he tried to die, he wouldn't? "What? How?"

Riddle smiled mirthlessly. "I used your blood in the ritual. You're mother's protection linked you to me, and thus to this world, meaning you would never be able to move on."

"Why are you telling me this? And you still haven't told me why you helped me, I don't care if I had to go through years living as a spirit like you did. I give up."

Riddle looked annoyed. "For you to die, that would I would have to die as well." He said as if explaining to a dull child. "I look like this because I was trying to test the wards. Those Dementors should have weakened you." He held up a hand. "And no, I didn't send them. Although I commend whoever did."

Harry didn't bother sending Voldemort a glare, he ran his fingers through his hair, realising it was damp with sweat. "So now what?"

Riddle smiled. "You do not need to kill me, the prophecy-"

"What prophecy?" Harry cut him off. Had Dumbledore lied to him again?

Riddle looked a bit shocked, before letting out another chuckle. "Dumbledore is getting paranoid in his old age, not even letting his own pawn know why he is to defeat me." Harry clenched his fists.

"What are you talking about?" He asked through grit teeth. Riddle sobered.

"Before you were born, there was a prophecy. One of my Death Eaters overheard it, although only part of it." Closing his eyes as though remembering something, he repeated, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies."

There was moment of silence. Harry tried to understand what the prophecy meant. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches- The prophecy was made months before his birth. Born as the seventh month dies- The seventh month of the year was July… And he was born on the very last day of it, when the month 'died' and turned to August. But many children could be born then… Born to those who have thrice defied could easily picture his parents defying Voldemort, it wasn't difficult. But not many people would be able to defy Voldemort and live.

"So you're trying to kill me because of that prophecy?" Harry asked. He stood up and sat on his bed. The letters now lay abandoned. Picking them up and crumpling them, he tossed them into the trashcan.

Riddle opened his eyes and nodded. Harry continued.

"So you can't kill me, and I honestly want to kill you, but I won't." Riddle's face had a small surprised look on it. "I can't kill you. I don't have the power to. I'm a fifteen year old student who hasn't even passed his OWLs, you can't expect me to walk over to you, say the words that cost me my family, and just walk off and live the rest of my happily, can you?"

Riddle smirked. "Idiot Gryffindor. Are you making excuses or do you really think that?"

Harry scoffed. "Why did you stop me though? I'm sure me floating around without a body would have suited your needs perfectly. That prophecy is self-fulfilling anyway."

"True, but I would still have to render you incapable of stopping me and my plans. Even without a body you aren't a ghost, you can still possess beings and use them." Riddle explained.

Harry sighed. "Why are you here?" He asked for what seemed to be the millionth time that night.

Riddle smirked, stood up and quickly walked towards a wall before turning around. He pulled out his wand, but didn't make any move to harm Harry. There was a crash noise coming from downstairs, someone was coming. The Dursleys' weren't scheduled to arrive until morning. A slightly bemused look from Riddle indicated it wasn't Death Eaters.

"Because you somewhat remind me of myself, Harry Potter. I must take my leave before Dumbledore's group of idiots finds me here." As footsteps approached the second floor, Tom turned and Disapparated.

Harry stared at his door. He quickly stood up and almost fell as a wave of nausea hit him. He breathed in, and closed his eyes until the nausea went away. He opened a drawer in his bedside table. Picking up his wand, he carefully turned off his lamp, and headed for the door. Just before his hand reached it, the door flung open, revealing Mad Eye Moody, Professor Remus Lupin, a girl with vibrant pink hair, and a dark-skinned man, all of them holding their wands protectively, silhouetted against the light of the hallway.

"Lower your wand boy, we're allies." Mad-Eye Moody snapped, both his eyes swiveling as though someone was hiding in the room. Harry noted that his magical eye lingered a second longer on the spot where Tom Riddle had been, and was slightly afraid that he might realise that Voldemort had been there. Somewhere in his mind, he wondered why he was afraid. Although the rope he'd hung himself from was nowhere in sight, Harry quickly thought up an excuse, that Dudley had returned from camp and threw the rope he'd used in knot-tying lessons in his room.

"Professor Moody? Professor Lupin?"

Moody gave a gruff grunt. Lupin smiled at him and inclined his head in greeting. The pink haired girl smiled at him. "Wotcher Harry. I'm Tonks. Pack your stuff, we're leaving." Harry broke out of his stupor, nodded quickly and opened his closet. On the floor was his trunk, everything readily packed in it except for a few quills, sheets of parchment and textbooks that lay on his desk. With the help of Tonks – whom Moody called Nymphadora, Harry assumed was her real name–, he pulled it out and opened it, throwing in the rest of the quills, textbooks and parchment before shutting it.

"Locomotor trunk."The girl said, waving her wand. The trunk rose and zoomed out the room. Harry cringed as it bumped noisily down the stairs. He sighed and held his hand to his forehead, he felt better, but his near-willing-death still had him winded.

"Wait," Moody's magical eye swiveled around as if a Death Eater was hiding under Harry's bed. "You sure it's him Lupin? Wouldn't do us much good to bring in a Death Eater." Lupin stared at him.

"What's your Patronus Harry?" He questioned. Harry knew this must have been some sort of test, Death Eaters' wouldn't know what his Patronus was, even if someone from school such as Draco Malfoy, who had seen his Patronus during a Quidditch match, told them, it was unlikely.

"A stag, like my father." Lupin nodded towards Moody, signifying he was indeed the real Harry Potter.

"Where are we going?" Tonks smiled at him again. "Is it the Burrow?" At the moment, the last people he wanted to see were his friends. He almost wanted to tell all of them to leave him alone, let him stay at the Dursleys'.

"Not there," Moody answered gruffly. "Death Eaters'll know you'll be there. No, we're going to headquarters. Come on, hurry up, we're leaving this place."

"Headquarters? Of what?" He asked, following after the group of wizards. He quickly shut off the lights, wizards or no, the Dursleys' wouldn't be happy.

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry." Lupin answered as they descended the stairs. Before Harry could ask what that was, they had entered the living room, where several other wizards and witches stood, along with several brooms leaning against a wall. As soon as he entered the room, they all stared at him. He was surprised by the amount of wizards there. There was a chorus of gasps, and Harry assumed it must have been from the way he looked. It had been too dark upstairs to see how underfed and sleep-deprived he'd been.

"Harry… Why do you-" Harry sent Lupin a look, frustration welling up inside him.

"Nightmares." He said curtly. "My relatives fed me, I just wasn't hungry." Like that, he knew that the adult wizards knew he wasn't going to continue to subject of his health. No doubt Lupin was going to complain to Dumbledore, and Mrs. Weasley was definitely going to stuff him until he exploded.

He was quickly introduced each person in the room. Harry knew only some of them like Moody, Tonks, and DeladusDiggle. Each and every one of them stared at him with a mixture of awe and pity, and he saw a witch and a wizard muttering about Muggles in the background.

**Harry inclined his head awkwardly at each of them as they were introduced. He wished they would look at something other than him; it was as though he had suddenly been ushered on-stage. He also wondered why so many of them were there.**

**"A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you," said Lupin, as though he had read Harry's mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.**

**"Yeah, well, the more the better," said Moody darkly. "We're your guard, Potter."**

**"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," said Lupin, glancing out of the kitchen window. "We've got about fifteen minutes.**

**"Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?" said Tonks, who was looking around the kitchen with great interest. "My dad's Muggle-born and he's a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just as it does with wizards?"**

**"Er–yeah," said Harry. "Look"–he turned back to Lupin–"what's going on, what's Vol–?"**

**Several of the witches and wizards made odd hissing noises; Dedalus Diggle dropped his hat again, and Moody growled, "Shut up!"**

**"What?" said Harry.**

**"We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky," said Moody, turning his normal eye on Harry. His magical eye remained focused on the ceiling. "Damn it," he added angrily, putting a hand up to the magical eye, "it keeps getting stuck–ever since that scum wore it–"**

**And with a nasty squelching sound much like a plunger being pulled from a sink, he popped out his eye.**

**"Mad-Eye, you do know that's disgusting, don't you?" said Tonks conversationally.**

**"Get me a glass of water, would you, Harry," requested Moody.**

**Harry crossed to the dishwasher, took out a clean glass and filled it with water at the sink, still watched by the band of wizards. Their relentless staring was starting to annoy him.**

**"Cheers," said Moody, when Harry handed him the glass. He dropped the magical eyeball into the water and prodded it up and down; the eye whizzed around, staring at them all in turn. "I want three hundred and sixty degrees visibility on the return journey."**

**"How're we getting–wherever we're going?" Harry asked.**

**"Brooms," said Lupin,** motioning to the brooms leaning against the wall**. "Only way. You're too young to Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorised Portkey."**

**"Remus says you're a good flier," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice.**

**"He's excellent," said Lupin, who was checking his watch.**

Moments passed, the wizards and witches were entertaining themselves with the Muggle things in the house. Harry winced as Tonks tripped and broke an antique looking vase. Loud noises seemed to bring his nausea back. He sighed in relief when Lupin quickly repaired it and placed it back on the counter, looking as though it had never been moved an inch out-of-place. Harry wondered what the Dursleys' would say if they the wizards playing with the refrigerator or the lights.

"I'm going upstairs," he said to Lupin, who had stared at him with a blank expression. "I just want to check if I forgot anything." Lupin nodded, but his eyes narrowed. Before Harry could turn, his professor's hand was on his shoulder.

"Harry," Lupin said slowly, "Why is there a mark on your neck?"

Harry froze, his mind whirling. He'd forgotten that the rope would leave a mark, too busy with the contents of the prophecy Dumbledore failed to tell him about, and that Tom freaking Riddle aka Voldemort saved him from wraith-dom. He quickly brought up the first excuse he could think of. "The Dementor was strangling me, I guess I just never noticed it. The mark I mean." He added quickly. Lupin's hold faltered, and he gave an apologetic nod of head. With a smile, Harry ran upstairs to his room.

Quickly looking around, it seemed as though Riddle had untied the rope from the ceiling. Harry found it half hidden underneath his bed, and thanked whatever deities were up there that no one had seen it. Quickly stuffing it under the bed and out of sight, he gave one last look around his room before heading back downstairs.

**Moody had replaced his eye, which was spinning so fast after its cleaning it made Harry feel sick to look at it. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing at a potato peeler she had come across while rummaging in the drawers. Lupin was sealing a letter addressed to the Dursleys.**

**"Excellent," said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry–"**

**"They won't," said Harry.**

**"–that you're safe–"**

**"That'll just depress them."**

**"–and you'll see them next summer."**

**"Do I have to?"**

**Lupin smiled but made no answer.**

**"Come here, boy," said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wand. "I need to Disillusion you."**

**"You need to what?" said Harry nervously.**

**"Disillusionment Charm," said Moody, raising his wand. "Lupin says you've got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disguise you better. Here you go–"**

**He rapped him hard on the top of the head and Harry felt** as if he was going to faint. His nausea returned, but **a curious sensation** occurred **as if though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the point the wand had struck.** He had to stop himself from staggering, he still had a bad headache from his successful yet failed suicide attempt.

**"Nice one, Mad-Eye," said Tonks appreciatively, staring at Harry's midriff.**

**Harry looked down at his body, or rather, what had been his body, for it didn't look anything like his anymore. It was not invisible; it had simply taken on the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him. He seemed to have become a human chameleon.**

**"Come on," said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand.**

* * *

No sooner as they had entered, Mrs. Weasley, Ron's mother, rushed towards him and gathered him in a rib-breaking hug. She pulled away from him and examined him, making a comment about how he wasn't eating properly and fussing over his state of health. Harry did not miss the hissed whisper towards to wizards behind quickly lead him into another room, mumbling something about Muggles and waking something up.

Being told to go upstairs to Hermione and Ron, Harry felt anger rise in him, and quickly said that he could help her with dinner.

"I'm sorry Harry, I really have to go. You're the door on the right. There's a meeting and Hermione and Ron have been most anxious-"

He cut her off, "They've been fine without me for over a month, they'll be fine without me for an extra couple of hours." Mrs. Weasley sent him a concerned glance. "I'll just look around here. I'll be staying here won't I?" Mrs. Weasley switched topics.

"Harry, have you been eating properly?" He shrugged, inwardly groaning at the repeated question.

"I just don't have much of an appetite Mrs. Weasley." He said. And it was true. He didn't starve himself or not get enough to eat, but whenever he ate his mind fled to Cedric's death and Voldemort's resurrection, leaving him with little appetite, a fact that pleased Dudley, who always ate the most and left Harry with not much.

"Have you been sleeping well, lately?" Harry, who knew Mrs. Weasley meant well, was getting a bit irritated by this question. He saw the most feared wizard in Britain come back to life, saw someone get murdered, and was put under the most painful curse in existence, of course he wouldn't be sleeping well!

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine," _Liar_, "It's nothing. I'll go find Hermione and Ron now." He quickly turned and fled up the stairs, leaving a worried Mrs. Weasley behind.

He quickly found the room and opened it.

**He caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room; then there was a loud twittering noise, followed by an even louder shriek, and his vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very bushy hair- Hermione had thrown herself on to him in a hug that nearly knocked him flat, while Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed excitedly round and round their heads.**

**"HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless-but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got things to tell us-the Dementors! When we heard-and that Ministry hearing-it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations-"**

**"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning as he closed the door behind Harry. He seemed to have grown several more inches during their month apart, making him taller and more gangly looking than ever, though the long nose, bright red hair and freckles were the same.**

**Still beaming, Hermione let go of Harry, but before she could say another word there was a soft whooshing sound and something white soared from the top of a dark wardrobe and landed gently on Harry's shoulder.**

"Hey Hedwig." His reached over and petted his owl. The white snowy owl had been Harry's companion ever since he entered the wizarding world at eleven. Instead of biting his finger affectionally, the owl let out a high, sorrowful hoot, and Harry knew she'd known what he tried to do. "Sorry, girl." Hedwig hooted again, this time as in acceptance of the apology, and nipped his finger like he knew she would, before flying off somewhere else.

"She almost pecked us to death, sending us your letters." Ron held up his hand, showing a half healed cut. Harry knew he should have felt sorry for him, but somehow he felt as though they deserved it.

"Harry," Hermione said. "You look…" She seemed to have just noticed, her eyes filled with worry.

"It's fine." He had to stop himself from making a biting remark.

They fell into an odd silence. Harry knew that under normal circumstances, he would have told them about the prophecy. However with the way he had found out about it…"

"Harry, your neck-" Ron was cut off by Hermione bursting into tears. Harry almost wanted to walk away, just to show them how much it had hurt. He knew she had connected the dots.

"Harry!" She moved towards him for a better look. "Please, tell me you didn't…"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped. His fingers moved towards his neck, and he felt where the rope had dug into his skin. "The Dementor was strangling me, that's it."

Hermione wasn't convinced.

"There's a difference between hands strangling you and a rope choking you to death, Harry!" Hermione shouted. She seemed half scared, half angry. "Why would you do such a thing?"

All the pent-up feelings of hatred and loneliness exploded in a flurry of sarcastic statements.

"Maybe because I've been locked up and told about nothing? Maybe because I saw someone die? Maybe because the most feared Dark Lord is trying to kill me? Maybe because the two people who are my friends told me next to the nothing?" He knew he shouldn't have, but he took joy in seeing Ron flinch at each statement, and Hermione to fall into tears again.

Ron was quick to answer. "Listen, we wanted to tell you, but Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore knows nothing!" He burst out. "Dumbledore's kept me in the dark! He's told me nothing! I have to kill him! How do I kill the one of the most powerful wizards in existence with the magical knowledge of any other fifth year Muggle-born?!" He knew that he shouldn't have said anything about Voldemort. They didn't know the prophecy, they didn't know that he had to kill Voldemort, even if Voldemort wouldn't kill him due to the blood protection. "I have to kill him. It's either that or watch him kill more people than just Cedric." His voice cracked, and he felt tears fall from his eyes.

Hermione grabbed him in a hug, and he immediately pushed her away. Ignoring Ron's shocked look and Hermione's tearful face, he quickly muttered apologies and excuses, walked away from them, and exited the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

**I wrote this a few months ago, I always thought that Harry would be pushed over the edge somehow, in fact, it somewhat surprises me that he never got pushed over before. With all the crap that goes on in his life, him self-harming or thinking suicidal thoughts wouldn't be very unexpected.**

**I don't know where to go with this fic, but for now, it's just going to show some changes with Harry knowing part of the prophecy and Tom Riddle somewhat helping him.**

**~FutureAuthoress176-Who-Is-Now-A-Whovian-Yay!**


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